Please listen to what I have to say...
I've fallen in love with you.
I know I shouldn't have.
But what should I do?
Painful feelings are overflowing.
My chest is tightened up.

That's right...
I'm deeply in love.
A knife is plunging through my chest.
My newborn emotion can't be hidden anymore.
The more I try to hide,
The worst it gets.

The only thing I can do is.
Stay away from you,
And not let you know of
The feelings I have.

But why am I still crying deep down inside me?
I put on my fake smile.
And from the reflection of my window.
Everything becomes empty.
When you're not beside me.

I screamed,
But nothing come out
With the feeling I have for you,
Everything bottled up.

I feel lonely in a world full of people.
Yet the empty pieces of my heart
Can only be filled by you.

I spent my nights reading books in our greatest libraries
Searching for what it is I am still clinging on to,
Then after the final vowel I realised
The one thing I miss about you, is you.

She wants to fall in love,
but not with someone, no.
She wraps her arms around her body,
buries her face in her sleeves.
She smells like citrus;
she used too much soap.

She wants to love her throat
and her thighs
and her knees
and her mouth.

She gasps and sighs and screams sometimes
and spit oozes from between her lips.
She tried to ***** into the bushes
but as soon as she felt her stomach heave,
she gave up.

She wants to love her toes
and her collarbones
and her elbows
and her wrists.

A history book made her cry today,
and so did chocolate chip cookies.
She sweat and sweat
and scraped her hands
and her shower water was too cold.

She wants to love her calves
and her nose
and her spine
and her hips.

She hates the feeling of gagging
and she's afraid of pain
but not blood.
Her hair is all damp
and she chews on her cheeks.

She wants to love her voice
and her ribs
and her teeth
and her palms.

She likes a boy she shouldn't
and she wants to write poems on his skin,
but she has a math test on Wednesday
and that will hurt worse.

She wants to love her cheekbones
and her shoulders
and her jaw
and her stomach.

She really wants to love herself,
she really, really does.
I just don't think that she tries
very hard.

The calm jungle,
The bird's jingle,
The rustling leaves,
The flower bloom.

The gustling winds,
Rain and thunderstorms,
Summer,winter
Spring and autumn.

The sun rise,
The sunset,
Eclipse,new moon
Twilight and breaking dawn.

In this nature,
EVERY MINUTE THERE IS A MAN DEAD,
EVERY MINUTE THERE IS A CHILD BORN.

the color of her lipstick
the color of the alleyway
the color of his knuckles when she showed signs of struggle
the color of the pavement
the color of the ambulance light
the color of her maternity dress
the color of her baby's hair
the color of the roses they set beside her coffin

she saw red--
                        the color of Love.